Perfect Life
by ScreamScarlett
Summary: Humiliation, misery, and death was all Thorin and his family knew after Erebor's fall. Just when they meet the end of their line, everything takes a drastic change the day two hobbits cross their paths... Thorin x OFC! AU! Warnings: angst, drama, and fluff!
1. Fall of Erebor

**A/N:** I'm liking the whole Hobbit fandom ever since I saw the movie, I've actually been reading the LoTR trilogy before the movie came, and I instantly wanted to go buy myself the The Hobbit book. My older brother insisted I read it because it's the prequel and beginning to what lead to the Lord of the Rings. Funny story, I've watched the 1977 cartoon version of The Hobbit when I was but a tiny child, and I can remember how freaked out and intrigued I was by the film. Smaug scared me the most with his wolf-like features and graveling voice (I hope that Smauglock can follow through with the dragon's previous actor's performance).

Anyway, yes, I'm one of those girls who instantly got attracted to the handsome threesome; Thorin, Fili, and Kili! Blast you Jackson for making them handsome and desirable for us swooning fangirls!

I'd like to give you fans a warning, this entire story is a AU! Yes, from different random timelines mixed together, events that changed, and the tweaking of a certain species in Middle-Earth. I know, you probably are already getting your torches and pitchforks ready, but at least read the story first before you come to that decision. Please read and review!

**Disclaimer:** J. J. R. Tolkein is the master and Peter Jackson is the doer of The Hobbit, I simply own my oc!

* * *

Everything was ruined the day that damned dragon came upon them.

Many lives lost in the unforgiving molten fire, chocked from the black fumes spreading throughout the caverns, tunnels, and halls of the mountain. And the treasure, all the gems, jewels, and gold, lost to that fire wyrm! And the most devastating loss... their home taken.

And they were all alone, the cold shoulder of the Elves told them that much.

All fled away, far away from the clutches of the terrible dragon Smaug, driven away from their home to live in the vulnerable wide open plains, to search for a place they can call their own but driven away from the ones already taking residence.

It was humiliating and shameful for such mighty people to become beggars. To be reduced to this state, it made more dwarves fling themselves over cliffs to be rid of the grief and shame.

Moria was overrun by Orcs, six years of battle against the wretched beasts result much loss on the dwarven army, including the King Under the Mountain, Thror (although the Orcs didn't fair better, the body being higher). And even as they won, many would not risk more lives, and so Moria was abandoned and the dwarves once again wandered far for a place to call their own.

However, the line of Durin was in danger. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, along with his sister and few guardsmen fled away in secrecy. The fell orc's promise to end Durin's line ringing in the dwarf prince's ear and he feared for the life of his sister, for she was pregnant.

Fili was born in a shoddy-looking tavern, the ruckus of the pub below giving them cover and privacy to privy eyes. Thorin felt deep anger in his blood as he watched a woman clean the tiny baby that squirmed in her too big arms. This was no place for an heir of Durin to be born in! Not in some damned nameless town full of filthy drunks and whores!

Dis' husband, one of the guardsman that had sworn to protect his princess with his own life, must have felt the very same as his dark eyes burned. Fili was suppose to be draped in soft sheets, bathed in warm clear water, and Dis resting on the most comfortable fur-covered mattress. Instead, Dis lied on a haystack of a bed with a thin, ragged quilt, and Fili was crying his lungs out as the woman wiped him with a dripping towel.

A week later, they moved on. Dis was still faint and pale, but she held strong with the tiny bundle in her arms with the encouragement of her husband and elder brother.

Fili grew up, the tiny blond boy that shared his mother and uncle's eyes watched the landscape change, shooting questions to his father, mother, and uncle about where to next they would end up. And everyone really did their best to make light of the situation for the little one's protection. Fili's happiness was contagious, making the most grim dwarf in the company quirk a smile behind their beards..

But once again, fate did not look down on them with any mercy.

An ambush. An orc pack attacked without warning, the guardsmen having little time to react to the sharp spears and jagged swords that viciously cut them down. A woman and child's screams made their blood run cold.

Thorin, Dis, and Fili escaped.

Fili's father, Dis' husband, Thorin's closest guardsman, did not.

**~x0x~**

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Dis was with child.

Thorin, cautious and paranoid as ever, took commissions from paying customers who needed the professional craftsmanship of a dwarf to have items they desired, or broken jewelry fixed. He gathered as much money he could to provide for his little quiet nephew and very weak sister.

The prince could not stand the sight of his gaunt-looking sister, the fire in her icy eyes looking more dim by the passing months as her belly grew. His nephew didn't look any better, looking more worse for wear. They were suppose to be full with happiness and glory, back in the halls of Erebor where Fili would be causing trouble for his tutors and giving the nannies hell, and his sister would be cared for as if she were a great treasure herself!

It was pathetic. _He_ was pathetic.

**~x0x~**

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Kili was born off the side of a muddy road, his tiny, bloody body wrapped in a shawl to keep the coldness away.

Thorin could just scream until his throat ran hoarse, but what good would that do? It would not summon a warm hearth and bed for his family. It would not summon a table full of the finest dish any dwarf chef had to offer. It would not bring back a fallen kingdom.

**~x0x~**

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The hardship, the helplessness, and the fear finally destroyed Dis and claimed her weak heart.

Fili, still quiet and dirty, looked down at the fresh grave of his mother, but he did not cry. Crying didn't do anything good but made his vision blur and the world darken. Crying made his uncle angry and sad, unable to care for his sister-son's as he carried three-year-old Kili in his arms. The prince that was once draped in fine clothes was now a shadow of that person, just as dirty and weary and _**dead**_ as every sad soul.

_'My line,'_ Thorin weakly thought as he hammered a weapon on the anvil. _'What will become of my line?'_

The fire in him was beginning to fade, his body slowly decaying and shutting down. Dark thoughts and memories haunting him in his wake, further plunged the prince into depression and self-loathing anger.

Durin's line will end.


	2. Cry

**A/N: **The first chapter turned out okay, I guess. But now we get to the second, and we finally get the meeting across! I hope you guys like this chapter. Please remember to read and review!

**Disclaimer:** J. J. R. Tolkein is the master and Peter Jackson is the doer of The Hobbit, I simply own my oc!

* * *

Kili let out another choked cough, hacking the liquid clogging his throat.

The days and nights were becoming colder, the worst time to be out instead inside of some warm home with the cracking of a fireplace keeping away the biting frost.

Thorin, Fili, and Kili had taken residence in an abandoned barn with left over dry haystacks that made as makeshift beds for the three dwarfs. But even for the shelter, it still did not save them from the cold and Thorin couldn't risk making a bigger fire without accidentally causing the wooden barn to be caught in blazing inferno. And he couldn't just drop Kili on the hay to search for some himself, he would not leave the little one by himself to be helpless.

They were tired, worn out from the long journey to find a village that would hire Thorin as a blacksmith. Their supplies were running low, and their bellies were beginning to ache from the lack of food, it pained the prince to see his little nephews going hungry. He no longer had the energy to be angry to curse the dragon, the elves, the orcs, and life in general. Everything was just set out against him, to pull him down until he was nothing but a groveling mess at the feet of people he had once looked down on.

They had yet to have come across a town before the cold became to much for the little ones, and Thorin was forced to take them inside the ratty barn.

"Come on, Kili," Thorin said as he pat the tiny toddler's back to help him spit out the blocking liquid. "Breathe, little one."

Fili sat across the fire, watching his uncle and little brother with worry. Fear had taken hold of the little dwarf, seeing the helpless look come over the once proud dwarf and the pale face of his sickly brother. Tiny fists clenched on his breeches as he continued to stare at his uncle's attempts to heal the littlest of the three, the dark voice in his said saying that in come winter, Kili will have to be buried along in some ditch. Just like mama.

The wind howled outside, and Fili shuddered, creeping closer to the fire. Hearing a growl, the young heir looked back to his uncle as he fumbled around for fabrics that could serve as a blanket.

They couldn't always depend on the hay, Fili thought as he remembered some of the guards seeking out dry wood from nearby woods. Wordlessly, Fili stood up from his seat on the hay and headed out of the barn.

"Fili!" came the gruff voice of his uncle. "Get back here, I won't have another nephew catch illness!"

Normally, Fili would always follow what was asked of his elders, he would do so because they were bigger than him and knew best. Thorin had watched over him since the death of his father and mother, had taken him and his brother, worked hard to provide them, and protect them from all sorts.

But, just this once, Fili wanted to be the one to protect his family.

Ignoring his uncle calling after him, the blond dwarf headed out into the cold in search of dry wood. Thankfully, Thorin did not come after him and instead stayed to tend to Kili, the young heir needed to do this.

Fili searched the grounds for any wood that had fallen from the large trees, making sure they were dry before tucking them under his arm. Uncle Thorin was right, Fili thought bitterly as he gave another look around the woodland area, fate was a cruel mistress that spat down on the line of Durin. Seeing no more dry wood, Fili glanced up at the tall trees that held numerous dry branches.

Fili would not return to the barn with just a small stack of twigs and sticks in his arms.

Placing the stack against a nearby tree, the dwarf princeling made a slow climb up the tree to snap thing branches and toss them down the forest floor. Fili gulped as he looked down, it was a long fall and he didn't want to be out too long, or uncle Thorin would be worried and come looking for him.

Fili hesitantly stood on a branch, using another as suppose as he reached out for one thin but thick branch that would surely—

**Snap!**

Before he realized what was happening, his tiny body fell down, down towards the ground before he landed harshly on the broken branch he was stepping on, his forearm slamming on the trunk where Fili felt a hot rush of pain.

His arm, young Fili cried out as he laid down on the forest floor, his arm was broken!

Why was his parents and uncle's home taken away? Why didn't the elves help them? Why was he born outside of his birthplace? Why was his family being hunted down? Why did his parents die? Why was Kili so sick? Why was strong, proud, wise uncle Thorin so broken?

Why was there no help for him and his family?

So much bad luck! So much unfairness! Why? _Why?!_

Having oppressed the one urge for far too long, Fili wailed.

**~x0x~**

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Dahlia Gamgee, fifth child of Hobson and Bell Gamgee, hummed as she continued to sew the torn fabric of her master's favorite handkerchief. Sitting beside her and leading the small wagon pulled by two ponies was her master whom she served loyally, Bilbo Baggins of Bad End.

"I hate this," Bilbo complained as he stared at the cloudy sky with disdain. "Doing business at Bree during winter, when I can just be sitting at home by the fire."

"Aye, Mr. Baggins, but business is business." Dahlia offered a smile at the hobbit.

Bilbo only rolled his eyes before focusing his eyes on the road, waving the reigns to hasten the pace of the ponies so he could hurry home into the warmth of his smial. Admittedly, Dahlia was eager to head home herself, wanting to shuck the thick clothes and boots (yes, in this story, hobbits don't have big, hairy feet and wear shoes, but the reason will be explained later) off her tiny frame.

Suddenly, the pointed tip of their ears twitched. A noise reached their ears. Bilbo slowed the wagon to a halt, and Dahlia straightened from her seat on the bench, listening for the sound.

A child's cry.

Maternal instinct kicked in the young hobbit lass, and she was off the wagon and on her feet, rushing off the road and into the woodlands. She could hear her master calling after her, but she kept going, she continued to follow the voice until it became louder and nearer.

"Hello!" she called out. "Hello, where are you?"

The wailing ceased and she hurried her steps, vaguely taking notice of the second body following after her. She hopped over a fallen tree trunk and made a glance around until something small caught the corner of her eye.

There, sniffling pathetically on the forest floor in thin, dirty clothes and wild blond hair, sat a tiny child. Not a human child, surely not a hobbit-child, but a child none the less.

His puffy cheek red from tears, and eyes blurred from the salty vision, and her heart shattered at the utterly hopeless look on the child's face.

"Oh dear," she heard Bilbo say behind her, but she ignored it and went straight for the child that nursed his little arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked, removing the cloak off her shoulders, ignoring the biting cold, and secured it over the little blond boy. "What's your name?"

He just stared up at her as she knelt down in front of him, not quite stopping his tears and whimpers, but he said nothing. Just stared at her with wariness.

"It's alright," she lowered her voice and placed her hands on his too thin, bony shoulders. "You're safe now."

And the boy cried, ducking his head in her arms.

"Dahlia," she heard Bilbo speak up from beside her. "I don't think he's alone."

She followed her master's gaze to the stack of twigs and sticks. The boy was gathering wood, and wood meant a camp, and a camp meant a party.

With a nod, Bilbo went ahead, following the trail as Dahlia cared for the little boy in her arms, calmly shushing his hiccuping, broken cries. The poor thing was holding his arm, and with the signs of a broken branch next to their forms, it didn't take a genius to know what had happened.

**~x0x~**

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Where was Fili?

Dread began to swell in the old dwarf's chest, whatever that foolish boy was set about doing that he would ignore his uncle, it was taking far too long. He grounded his teeth when another shuddering cough came over Kili. If only he could find the nearest town and work, then he would use his earning to have Kili looked at by a physician. But no such thing, not with the blasted cold keep them in place.

Curses to the dragon Smaug, curses to King Thranduil, curses to every misfortune that came upon him and his family!

He could not bear it, Thorin held the little boy closer to his chest, to bury another one of his family members.

The door of the bar creaked loudly, alerting Thorin of the arrival of the one he was waiting for. He lifted his head to give the little boy a piece of his mind, but cut himself short.

That was not his nephew standing at the door way.

"Who are you?!" roared Thorin, on his feet and sword raised.

The tiny figure let out a frightened squeak and hid behind the door, peeking his head behind the wooden door with eyes wide with horror.

Fili still wasn't amongst them, and Thorin thought the worst.

"What have you done to my sister-son?!" Thorin growled, holding the tiny bundle closer than ever, not daring to let this creature snatch him away. "Answer me you wretched—"

"I mean you and your family no harm!" the short one said, still hiding behind the wooden door. "I, I came here because of a little boy!"

So he indeed have Fili.

Thorin advanced on the person hiding at the door, his vision full red raging fury. The person jumped away from the door when a sword came slashing at his direction, he scrambled some more when the dark wild-haired man followed him with wild swings.

"Please! Please stop!" the little person pleaded in panic, ducking just in time from being beheaded. "Listen to me, I'm here to help you!"

"_Help?!_" Thorin spat out in anger, his broken pride bristling. "I need no help from you! Give me back my nephew!"

"I will!" the little person raised his hands, pointing down at Thorin's chest. "But you must first help that little one in your arm."

The anger and heat of battle drained away the moment Thorin noticed Kili was still in his arms.

"You're little one looks unwell," the curly-haired short figure continued, still scared from Thorin's attacks. "And so does your other nephew. You need help."

Reason and reality sank back into Thorin, and the dwarf prince slowly lowered his sword. A dark cloak was in his line of vision, and he followed the arm to find the little person giving up his richly-looking warm cloak to shelter Kili.

Thorin took the cloak and wrapped it around his sick nephew, feeling a bit of relief when Kili's shuddering ceased.

He looked up to face the little person before him, who looked like he was getting over Thorin's attacks.

"Now then," the person said as he faced Thorin, clearing his throat. "Let's get going, shall we?"


	3. Buckland

**A/N: **Sorry I took long to update, but school was in the way, and there was some other projects that needed overseeing. I don't know much about the lands of Middle-Earth, so please don't be angry if I get something about this wrong, such as length of time to reach certain places. I tried, that's all I'm going to say. Anyway, I get this chapter done with and I hope you will forgive for taking this long. I hope you like it, enjoy!**  
**

**Disclaimer:** J. J. R. Tolkein is the master and Peter Jackson is the doer of The Hobbit, I simply own my oc!

* * *

Thorin, when he was a lad and studying under the tutorship of some great dwarf scholars, was told about the weak, gentle kin of their race; hobbits. They shared some similarities, the main one being they both were short-structured folks, and they both took homes under the earth. But they were both vastly different as well.

The birth of hobbits were a bit of a mystery, but it was said a small band of dwarves had headed off west, their long stay out in the wilderness of trees, fields, and plant life made them forget about forging jewelry and weapons. Slowly over time they changed, losing their strength and valor, making them easily frightened and cautious as deers.

Hobbits didn't like adventures and danger. The only time they actually took up arms was to defend themselves when they had been invaded by goblins and wolves that one Fell Winter.

Dwarves were hardy, stout, strong folk that could bring down just about anything twice their size. If anything or anyone dared threatened them, they were there to take on the challenge.

Hobbits didn't grow beards. Practically hairless except for the top of their heads!

Dwarves took much pride in their beards!Even dwarf women! The design of their braids signaling of which house they hail from, and who's son or daughter they were.

Hobbits loved forests, green grasslands, meadows, and flowers that surrounded them.

Dwarves took shine to anything that was gold, silver, ruby, sapphire, or any gems that they found in their diggings.

Hobbits were not thought of too fondly by the dwarves, often called a bunch of skittish small folk with no back-bone found anywhere in their body. The dwarves lived out in the lands that were littered with orcs, wargs, trolls, and other sorts of nefarious creatures, it made dwarves strong and tough, hobbits just continued to live a life full of bliss, uncaring of the danger outside of their lands.

This was how Thorin saw the hobbit that lead him through the short forest trail. It wounded the exiled prince's already broken pride, to be helped by this one whelp from a race of spineless creatures he was ashamed to call his kin. Kili's wheezing made Thorin come back to the reality of their dire situation, a sickly dwarfling barely clinging to consciousness, another traumatized child that stayed silent for so many years, and a once proud prince brought down into rags and dirt. There really was no way out of this unless there was help, and as much as it pained the dwarf prince, he would see to it that he would at least protect what's left of his family.

For Dis.

Thorin spotted a wagon a little off the road led by a pair of ponies, and on the back of the wagon was his Fili in the arms of a complete stranger.

**~x0x~**

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It didn't take too long for Bilbo to find his wagon already occupied with his faithful servant attending to the little boy they found earlier.

"What happened?" came a gruff demand from behind him, it nearly made Bilbo jump out of his skin when he remembered the unnaturally large dwarf that had nearly sliced his head clean off his shoulders was just standing a scant few feet away from him.

Dahlia, poor thing, started from the sound of the new company's voice and found to be the end of a frosty glare. The little boy whimpered as he nursed his injured arm, and in a flash of movement, the large dwarf was in the wagon with the tiny bundle still cradled in his arms, and snatched the little boy from Dahlia.

"What have you done to him?" the dwarf snarled at the tiny woman.

As much as she was surprised by the dwarf's appearance, she would not be talked down!

"I've done nothing!" Dahlia snapped heatedly, putting her foot down by the dwarf's rudeness. "I've found your little one alone, hurt, and freezing! I only did what I thought was right and looked after him until my master came back with the boy's parents!"

The dwarf did not budge from her jabbing. Both male dwarf and hobbit-lass glared at each other, neither one willing to give up from blue ice and fiery honey orbs clashing. Meanwhile, Bilbo nervously looked between the stranger and his servant, wondering about how he should go breaking this before it escalated to something far worse for both parties. But he didn't need to.

The much younger child still in the feral dwarf's arms made a wet coughing fit, and it made the two adults break away from their glaring contest and concentrate on the children.

"Let me see the child," Dahlia said, holding out her hands. She didn't blink when the dwarf gave another frigid glare at her, tightening a protective hold on the little one.

"We're not trying to hurt you, Master dwarf," Bilbo spoke up for the first time, still a little shaken from the dwarf's treatment and the fear for Dahlia. "Really, we're just trying to help you and your children."

The dwarf gave a brief glance at the hobbit that gave his cloak up to his nephew before he returned his sharp eyes to the hobbit-woman, her arms still waiting. After a short while, the dwarf grudgingly handed over his sick child to Dahlia. The young hobbit-lass crouched down to sit on the wagon cart, taking attention to the little boy in her arms while Bilbo climbed to the front and whipped the reigns to have the ponies go into motion. The grizzle-faced dwarf did the same in crouching down with Dahlia and held the older boy in his arms, looking into his injured arm.

_'Poor little thing,'_ Dahlia frowned as she stared down at the feverish-looking toddler.

"What happened to him?" the dwarf once again spoke up, still giving Dahlia an accusing look.

"He most likely fell out of a tree. He was sitting next to a broken bark that snapped from the boy's weight." Dahlia replied, ignoring the death glare directed at her, and she looked to her master. "Mr. Baggins, I suggest we should make for Buckland. The little one is barely breathing properly!"

"Yes, of course. I just hope Saradoc doesn't mind us barging in without warning."

Thick, tense silence went on amongst the group of adults, the dwarf openly glaring at the hobbits with his hand still wrapped around the hilt of his sword. It worried Bilbo about his and Dahlia's safety, but his servant didn't look at all alarmed at the threat they had on the back of his wagon. Instead, the hobbit-lass ignored the dwarf and tended to the little boy in her arms.

The sick dwarfing gave another coughing fit and Dahlia gave the bundle a few pats on the back to help ease the child's breathing.

"Be strong little one, you'll be alright." Dahlia whispered to the boy, pushing away the small locks of dark hair away from his red face.

Soon they made for the Brandywine Bridge but turned another way that would lead to Brandy Hall, the home of Saradoc Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland. Meanwhile, the dwarf eyed the area with much suspicion, taking on the large hedge that seemed to keep the ominous looking trees from the other side at bay. And the hills, he noted, they weren't really hills at all.

Little round doors plastered on the side of the hills, chimneys protruding from the earth in puffs of smoke, little windows lit from inside the holes. The dwarf should know by meeting the two hobbits that they indeed lived in the earth, but still it brought him some surprise at actually looking at their homes! Shaking away the awe from him, the dwarf noticed other hobbits loitering about outside their homes, men and women wearing warm-looking cloaks to shield themselves from the cold, blustering wind. And the main thing that caught his attention the most;

They looked happy.

"Carter!" the dwarf snapped at attention when he saw Dahlia wave a single arm at one hobbit.

The hobbit, a lad with dark shaggy hair and wide hazel eyes approached the cart, jogging alongside it as he came in close to hear what the hobbit-lass had to say.

"Hullo Ms. Gamgee!" the lad greeted with a toothy grin but his smile was wiped away when he noticed the child in her arms. "What's that? Are you babysitting for someone?"

"Never mind that! Send for a physician at Brandy Hall, you understand? And make haste!" Dahlia snapped at him, annoyed with tween's lack of attention.

"Yes, ma'am!" Carter nodded seriously, not before casting one curious look at the dwarf and the child before spinning and bolting off to find the healer.

**~x0x~**

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Thorin watched Carter disappear behind the hills, the lad running as fast as his little legs could carry him. He snapped out of his staring when he heard Fili whimper once again, the boy's arm now swollen from the hours of leaving alone his broken arm.

Really, Thorin had half a mind to snap at the boy for his foolishness in climbing trees that would result in broken limbs, but the dwarf prince held his tongue. Fili was only trying to help, not be a burden to his uncle and brother. It was by a small chance of luck on the dwarves that the two hobbits had come by the boy, for a sick toddler and injured boy would have made everything far much worse for their jobless uncle.

"Here we are," the hobbit, Baggins as he was called, announced to everyone. He led the pony up a trail towards a very large hill that had multiple lit windows and three round doors.

Thorin had seen far grander things than the hill, after all, he did live inside a giant mountain. But it didn't stop his eyes from widening or the flash of amazement coursing through him. Immediately as the feeling came, it was squashed and burnt to a crisp.

A small group of hobbits huddled somewhere at the large lawn of the giant hill began to approach the wagon, and Thorin took hold of his sword again. He didn't unsheathe it, but he wasn't letting go of it.

"Hullo there, Bilbo!" one hobbit greeted Baggins as he climbed off the wagon and faced the group. "What brings you to Buckland?"

"Aye, never seen a letter nor heard a word of you coming by." another said, taking a great intake from his pipe.

"Uh, well, we ran into a bit of trouble—"

_'Trouble?!'_ Thorin glowered at the back of the hobbits head. A small bit of satisfaction was felt when he saw Baggins give a small shudder.

"Mr. Baggins!" the hobbit-lass gave an imploring look to her master.

"Yes, right!" Baggins snapped to attention. "We have an emergency, and we were simply too far to reach Hobbiton!"

"What be the problem?" the hobbits then finally took notice of Thorin's presence. "Who's your friend?"

"Is that a dwarf?"

"Of course he is, look at his beard!"

Thorin was growing impatient and wanted to have all of them beheaded from being a bunch of nosy pests. Seeing the dangerous glint in the dwarf's eye, Baggins whirled to face the small crowd of curious hobbits and turn the subject into something more serious.

"We'll explain on the way inside," Baggins said. "Right now we have two children in need of a doctor and a warm hearth, will you please let us in?"

Finally coming to his senses, the first hobbit gave a quick nod.

"Alright, come along then."

Baggins helped the hobbit-lass down the wagon, careful with precious cargo in her arms, and moved to do the same for Thorin, but he backed away when Thorin growled in warning and climbed himself down. The group moved up the trail that led inside, and the dwarf observed as the middle of the three round doors opened.

Thorin was greeted with warmth, something that the rickety barn lacked.

And he was greeted by more hobbits.


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